


Moscow: October 2017

by Eliza



Series: The (15) Kisses Album [8]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24288208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliza/pseuds/Eliza
Summary: With the possibility of neither Yuri nor Victor skating, the Russians need someone else to root for.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: The (15) Kisses Album [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727986
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Moscow: October 2017

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Charm
> 
> See the series for notes

The afternoon’s pre-event press conference went according to script except that Otabek found himself glancing toward the door at the back of the room. He half-expected to see Yuri slip into the back row or at least poke his head in. They’d agreed that Yuri should keep a low profile and not distract the press from the actual competitors in the Rostelecom Cup, but Yuri’s definition of discreet varied from moment to moment. Otabek chided himself out of his disappointment. He’d only left Yuri this morning before heading to practice; he could put in a full work day without seeing him. 

Once the press cleared out, he happily signed autographs and took a few pictures in the hotel lobby. He still wasn’t completely over the surprise at finding he had fans outside of Kazakhstan. There was one girl who hung back, making sure to be last. Otabek kept glancing at her, she seemed familiar, but when it was her turn, she simply handed him a note folded as complicated as origami. As soon as he saw Yuri's handwriting—addressing the note to “asshole”—he made the connection. She was one of Yakov's promising juniors. 

"Can I still get a picture?" Nadia asked, with a demure smile and mischief in her eyes. 

"Any time," Otabek said. 

After they took the selfie, she outright grinned, and asked, "Can I post it?" 

"I always assume they are. But is that a good idea for a Russian skater?" 

"I'm a 14-year-old girl, they don't expect much from me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It's really more for Yuri. He's been sitting in Mila's room growling over the…um," she paused, blushing a bit, "appreciative nature of your fans' comments. He's complaining that they’re missing all the important bits, so I said I'd make sure they get into the feeds." 

Oh, God. "Nadia, you're terrifying me." 

"No, no! You could show my post to your mother. I promise." She flushed a little more. "But you should read Yuri's note." 

It wasn’t a short note, being equal parts crude porn and snarly bitchfest, although it really just reminded him that there was someone waiting in his room. As if he needed reminding. He showed Nadia the last line—only the last line—and then kissed her cheek, as instructed. 

"But I wasn't to know the kiss was from Yuri," she said, her demure smile and mischief back in place. 

"That can be our secret," Otabek said with a wink, leaving her to her Caramel Frappuccino and Instagram.

Otabek had barely touched the hotel room door when it opened to Yuri’s scowl. Yuri dragged him inside, complaining, "What did you do to your phone? You weren't answering me."

"My phone is fine. I was working, Yuri." 

Yuri crowded Otabek against the wall beside the closet. "You made me send a note. I wrote on actual paper, Otabek." 

One of the things that Otabek had learned quickly was that when Yuri got pissy about small things, it was usually because there were other emotions at play. Otabek had a pretty good idea what it was about today. "That was very sweet," he said, putting his hands on Yuri's ribs, pressing firmly against the solid support. "I'm keeping it tucked behind my phone." 

"I hate you. You're an awful human being," Yuri said as he leaned against Otabek, not quite nuzzling, but only because Otabek could tell he was fighting the impulse. God help him, Otabek loved it when Yuri got himself worked up and frustrated, because he always took it out by being pushy and contrary. It promised an evening that was mentally challenging and physically exhausting, exactly what Otabek needed to keep his mind out of his skating and get a good night’s sleep. 

Otabek closed the small distance between them, brushed his cheek against Yuri's and whispered into his ear, "I know. The fans are getting it all wrong." 

“Damn it, Yuri!” Mila snarled. So much for the promise of more manhandling. Otabek leaned around the corner and saw her sitting on one of the beds, propped against the headboard. “I told you and Nadia not to post anything.” 

It was only when Yuri stepped away that Otabek noticed he was dressed for a public appearance. Something was up. Otabek came over to sit beside Mila’s feet, pulled up a leg onto the bed in order to face her and said, “She promised me I could show it to my mother.” 

“No, don’t worry,” Mila said, patting his knee. “It’s very sweet, but it’s adding fuel to the fire that we are going to try to put out in,” she checked her phone for the time, “25 minutes. I’m here because Yuri needs to stay unrumpled.” 

Otabek turned in time to see Yuri roll his eyes and slouch against the desk. Otabek wondered if that was a Russian thing or a Yakov protégé thing. He’d ask Mila later. “What fire?” he asked instead. “As Yuri may have mentioned, I haven’t been checking my phone.” 

Mila snorted a laugh, so it wasn’t serious enough to dampen her sense of humour. “There are rumours that Victor isn’t going to skate, which is still being decided, but in the meantime, the internet has exploded with who Russia should be rooting for. You’re the top contender, and Nadia’s fangirl post is only going to add credibility to the rumor.” 

Victor hadn’t been at the press conference, but Otabek had assumed that the Russian team was doing their own. Still... “Me?”

Mila grinned. “Russians appreciate your charm.” 

Otabek rolled his eyes, and, okay, he understood the need for that mode of expression now. “Isn’t Georgi skating?” 

“Which is why this unpatriotic show of…” Mila paused, looking for the right word. 

“Thirst?” Yuri offered through gritted teeth.

“No! Well, yes, but not just. It’s stirring up— Oh, there’s Yakov.” Mila answered the call while Otabek stood up to go to lean beside Yuri. They listened to Mila’s side of the conversation which was monosyllabic when she bothered with more than “Um-hm.” 

After a few minutes of this, Otabek nudged Yuri in the ribs. “Thirst?” he said, an eyebrow raised. Yuri smirked and gave him a long look starting at his feet. 

“Not that I disagree in principle…,” Yuri said, then leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss to Otabek’s cheek. Otabek liked this kind of kiss just as much as all the other kinds. Sometimes more because all he had to do was feel it and the emotions behind it, no need to judge a response or risk getting lost in his own reactions. 

The sound of a shutter click brought their attention back into the room. 

“Oops. I forgot it did that,” Mila said, batting her eyelashes. “The moment was just too sweet for me not to.” She grinned and tapped rapidly on her phone. 

Otabek could hear Yuri’s indignation in his breath before he said, “You’re going to show me that picture, or I’m going to take it and get rumpled doing it.”

Mila narrowed her eyes as her focus moved from the screen to Yuri. “Press conference has been moved to a press release. Victor is skating. Bring it, baby boy.” 

The baby boy was significantly taller than Mila was now, but Otabek wasn’t about to interfere in a negotiation between siblings. He’d felt the vibrating notification from his phone before Mila made her challenge, so it was safe to say, Yuri was going to get to add the picture to his album one way or another.


End file.
